Tomato Red
by snowbunnie13
Summary: Soul and Maka's daughter is on her first mission: to learn more about her grandfather, the previous Deathscythe. Was he a hero or a flirt? A great and powerful Deathscythe or a father that had no time for his family? ResonanceBang submission!


Tomato-Red

By snowbunnie13

Summary: Soul and Maka's daughter is on her first mission: to learn more about her grandfather, the previous Deathscythe. Was he a hero or a flirt? A great and powerful Deathscythe or a father that had no time for his family?

Special thanks to theoddworkingsofholly for her mixed-media piece!

"Hey! No scythes at the table!" Maka ordered her husband and daughter. Soul had created a littler scythe out of his arm up to his elbow to parry with, and Aisha tried to hit with a blade up to her shoulder. It was the biggest she could make; any bigger and her body would poof back to human form in frustration. She wished with all her heart that she could do a full transformation to see what her scythe looked like.

"Hehehe if you don't eat your dinner I'll give you a hair-cut!" Soul grabbed a lock of his hair and pretended to cut it. He has, on occasion, trimmed Aisha's bangs, but would never dare to cut her precious tomato-red hair that reached down her shoulders. It flowed in little waves and was very striking on the young girl. In fact, Aisha loved it so much she never wanted to cut it short and if she had her way she'd let it grow until it touched the ground. Afterwards, Mama would remind her how much of a hassle that would be.

"No no no! Daddy gives the _worst _hair-cuts!" She retracted her scythe, causing her father to smile in relief and return his arm to flesh. Aisha began to eat her pizza with the manners of a 13-year-old Soul. His weapon abilities were not the only thing passed down. "He's too old. He doesn't know what's _cool." _

The Deathscythe scoffed, "I'm not _that _old. And I _always _know what's cool."

"You're older than Mama," Aisha pointed out. "And you have white hair. My friend said only old people have white hair."

Maka pushed the napkin pile towards her daughter, who had pizza cheese lining her mouth. Well, at least she was eating. The policy at the Evans household was that you eat what's served, or you don't eat at all. This was probably a callback from the days where Maka and Soul would cook for each other; they wouldn't cook separate meals. "Daddy has _always_ white hair. That's just what color it is. And he's only a few years older. Meisters can enter Shibusen at twelve years old, but some Weapons come late."

"Daddy was late! Daddy is _always _late!" She sang.

"He wasn't ready yet. He didn't know he was a Weapon," Soul nodded with Maka, "but that's okay. I was _waiting _for him." The older scythe joined his hand with Maka's and smiled at her.

"Mushy Mama and Daddy. Not cool." She huffed, and while her parents weren't looking at her she used a finger-scythe to cut some of her pizza.

"Aisha!" But adults yelled, worried she might hurt herself. They leapt from their seats and each grabbed a wrist. "You're going to chop off a finger!"

The little girl pouted but did not release her weapons. Luckily, her dad knew if he tickled her she'd immediately give up, as her attention would give out. With a serious look on his face, he lifted the hand that he had trapped and tickled until her fingers returned to their human state. Aisha still continued to fight though; her tiny fists struggled.

"Daddy! Let me go!"

"I think we need to have a scythe-to-scythe talk." Soul looked right into her eyes, green as a forest. "Cool?"

"Okey-dokey." She followed her father to the front door of their little house and allowed him to pick up her green coat from the coat rack. He opened it so she could slip her arms in and button the red squares that served as buttons. Aisha liked to put on her slip-on shoes by herself though, tightening them with Velcro. Soul preferred his leather jacket and old Converse for a walk to the park.

In the absence of the moon, the stars became brighter than ever. Children in Death City born after the battle on the moon, like Aisha, have never seen the moon or imagined its laugh. But they _have_ seen galaxies and constellations that rivaled even the view from the highest of mountains.

Aisha was not looking at the stars right now. She was silent, knowing she was in trouble, so she stared at her shoes. After a while, Soul said, "You know that Mama told you no scythes at the table."

"You had a scythe at the table!"

"Ack—" Just as smart and observant as her mother, wasn't she? "Well, I wasn't trying to eat with it. That's gross anyway. What if you get rusty?"

The girl paused in her steps and gasped. "But Mama said Weapons don't get rusty!"

"I'm kidding, shortie."

At first she fought against Soul's hand, ruffling up her hair, but then leaned up into it. Soul brushed his fingers through her hair. They had reached the play park, so he sat on an old wooden park bench with her.

After a while, he said, "Y'know, Aisha, you have hair just like your Grandpa's. He didn't like me, but he was a great Deathscythe."

"Why didn't he like you?!" Not liking her father was a terrible thing in Aisha's eyes. She was daddy's little angel, and she loved him very much. Also, no one messed with her family! Aisha knew that she was only a child, but she would do anything to protect her parents.

"I married his daughter," Soul explained, chuckling at some memory. "He taught me how to be a powerful Deathscythe though! It was before the Great Peace of the Witches. Before the Peace, you had to kill a witch to become a Deathscythe, did you know? Now Kid decided that you have to beat a test to be worthy of being his Weapon."

There were a lot of things Kid had to change after the treaty Kid signed with the witches. Killing a witch now would earn you a stay in the Shibusen dungeons for life.

"Who did you beat?"

"Maka and me, we beat a spider witch. She was really evil. I'll tell you about her someday, 'k, shortie?" He decided the story of Arachne was too frightening for the little girl. Most of the time, he didn't like thinking about the past. What mattered most to him was the present.

"Hmm. What's the test, Daddy? Do you know?"

"Yep, but I'm not telling nobody. That'd be cheating." Cheating definitely wasn't cool, if by doing it on the super test he had ended up in his underwear, an episode that he did not want to repeat. Maka would never let him forget about it. Now he just hoped she wouldn't tell Aisha. There were better ways of encouraging actually studying for tests.

She huffed again and puffed up her cheeks. It wasn't fair that her dad knew secrets but couldn't tell anybody! Kid was so mean! But she knew a lot about her Uncle Kid. She wanted to know about her Grandpa, who Maka didn't talk about for some reason. Aisha had long since figured out why she's never met him—sometimes they visited his tombstone—but why did she never talk about him? She talked about Grandma all the time! "Hmph. Daddy, did you like Grandpa?"

Soul took a long time to think about this question. They shared a lot of bad experiences together, but some good ones too. "I didn't like your grandfather, but I respectedhim. He really liked your Mama though. He would have really liked you, too. Like I said, you have his red hair!" He pushed her crimson locks behind her ears. "But you have your Mama's beautiful eyes. I love those eyes. I wouldn't have fallen in love with her without those eyes!"

Aisha's eyes shifted around looking for eavesdroppers before she whispered, "'Cause she has tiny tits, right, Daddy?"

"What?! Who told you that?!"

"Well, if you won't tell me about the test, I won't tell you."

"It was Uncle Star, wasn't it?"

"…Yes…"

Soul made a face and leaned backwards. He was going to have a very serious talk with his friend later! "Anyway. I need to talk to you about being a Weapon. You can't be using your powers to show off or for stupid reasons. The only reason you use your powers is to—"

Across the park, a growling sound sprung forth. It was an inhuman sound, and Soul knew it was a Pre-Kishin. As a Deathscythe, it was his duty to defeat the bladed creature, but he also had to protect his child. The monster, seeing the glow of Soul's arms, rushed toward them. In a show of power, it picked up the slide and crushed it.

"Aisha. Stay here. Do you hear me? I _will protect you." _The Deathscythe charged, suddenly wishing he had worn different shoes. Converse wasn't great for running.

Soul parried each blow from the creature's multiple, sword-shaped arms. It reeked, making it difficult. Soul looked behind him, searching for his daughter, and found her hiding behind the park bench, not a very good spot, but it was probably the best she could come up with in the danger.

She'd seen brief flashes of Kishin attacks on the news, but Maka always changed the channel or distracted her when they came up. "Uncle Star" argued that she was being just as protective over her as Soul was of Maka. "Uncle Star" also wished for Aisha to call him Godfather, which he technically was, but when she did, he got too cocky.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" He couldn't push the monster back while worrying about Aisha.

It had a lot of endurance, this Kishin, and Soul was starting to falter, with his mind thinking in multiple directions and too many blades to think about.

"DADDY!" Aisha screamed, running towards the battle without Soul's noticing. Fast, the little scythe transformed both arms to parry a tail that Soul was about to be hit with. Using his anger as strength, he kicked the surprised kishin's stomach with a blade out of his leg. It disappeared into the red glowing orbs that he'd come to love.

"AISHA! I told you to…what I mean is…you did a good job. What I was going to say was…Weapons protect the ones they love."

"Are you going to eat that soul, Daddy?" She smiled proudly.

"Nah, I have a better idea."

…

Needless to say, Maka was furious when they arrived home, covered in dirt and blood. Maka went to her "baby angel" first, checking for wounds and counting how many band-aids she'd need. She told her to stay in the kitchen and pointed her finger at her husband, letting him know that he was going to hear more about this later.

"What happened, baby? And _don't _say you tripped, I can tell you didn't." Maka said while cleaning her wounds. She flinched at the medicine's sting.

"I saved Daddy, Mama. The monster came after him and he was going to get hit but I got it for him! Don't be mad at Daddy; he was mad at me too."

"Oh, he's in trouble! As a Deathscythe, no, as the Last Deathscythe, he should have been able to beat that pre-kishin! Papa would have—would have—"

"Why won't you talk about Grandpa?" Aisha handed her a tissue too. She'd heard about him a lot tonight already; maybe she could get the whole story? She was too curious for her own good. "Tell me about him! I have his hair!"

Soul suddenly appeared by her side. He nodded to Maka. It was her story to tell. She could, by reading his expression, infer that he didn't tell her anything besides the hair color. They had been inside each other's souls, after all, so they knew everything.

Maka continued to clean her daughter's scratches and scrapes. After, she started to open up a new box of band-aids when she began, "Hmm. All right. A few weeks before you were born, when you were still in my tummy, hundreds of pre-kishin marched to Shibusen. They were angry that Asura was dead. And it was because of me, so they wanted me dead too. I hid with Daddy. My Papa was our guard. He was close by. But the kishin came down the pipes and into our hiding spot. We weren't expecting them to be so smart.

"Daddy wasn't trained to fight alone, and he couldn't fight with a pregnant meister. He beat a few, but eventually was defeated. He fell on the ground and stopped moving. I thought he was dead, so I screamed. _I shouldn't have screamed!"_

"Maka," The white-haired man placed his hands on her shoulders, hopefully in comfort. If his daughter wasn't here, he would have crushed her to his body until she couldn't move, swallowing her sobs, but contact would be nice.

"Mama," Aisha left her seat to climb into her lap. Her small hands grabbed at Maka's shirt and looked up at her crying face. Her Mama never cried; she never showed any weaknesses. That was why Aisha thought she was the strongest person in the world, along with Daddy. What could this mean?

"My Papa beat all the pre-kishin. The last one got him and walked toward me, and your Dad woke up just enough to stab it by surprise. He fell asleep again, and my friends came to tell me we'd won. But I didn't think so. My Papa was dead. He died protecting me." Maka held her daughter close, knowing there was so much more she wanted to say, that when Aisha was born and she saw her hair she wanted to cry, because she didn't get to say how much she loved him when she had so many chances. She cried because he was so excited to meet his granddaughter (even though the father was Soul).

"Mama," the little girl said again, "Daddy told me scythes protect the ones they love. So Grandpa was protecting you and Daddy and me. He loved you very much! And…" She tried to think of the right words to say, "You beat the Kishin! You saved the world! That means you love _everyone!" _

Little kids always say the most inspirational things. Aisha kissed her mother's cheek and then her father's before rushing off to bed. Fighting monsters was more draining than she thought.

"Maka," Soul said, presenting a jar with the glowing red soul in it. She hadn't even realized that while she was cleaning Aisha's wounds, he had gone into the closet and had returned with an object. Written in Sharpie were the words 'Aisha's first soul'. "Maka. We're a pretty cool family, don't you think?" The white-haired scythe still wasn't the best at apologizing…"Maybe your boobs aren't _that _small" used to be a winner…but making something nice for her was his best bet. While they were dating, Soul used to rank his stupid moments by how many flowers he'd have to buy for Maka.

"You know that will go bad in a few months." She said eventually, after cleaning her face of tears. The soul would collapse in on itself, but this didn't happen often because a Weapon would find it and eat it before that happened. They could sense it, and an uneaten soul that was not contained could drive them insane, like putting a plate of food in front of a starving person and telling them they can't eat it. If there were more than one Weapon in the room, they might even fight over the soul if they were with it for a long time.

Maka's tactic with her statement, Soul knew, was to change the subject into something neutral to avoid what she had said previously. He wasn't sure if she regretted telling Aisha about her grandfather, but she certainly felt better talking about it. Soul told her a million times that she could always talk to him about it, or if she felt better she could always talk to a psychiatrist, but she always refused, saying she was fine and didn't need any help.

"Y'know, Maka, her hair might look just like his, but that doesn't mean anything. Or maybe it's just that she has a great destiny! She's going to do great things! But that _doesn't _mean she has to live up to everything, okay?" He referred to Maka and her mother, the obsession to be just as good and better as her. That tradition he did not want to pass on to his child.

"Soul! I was just about to let you sleep on the bed!" Maka whispered harshly. She turned to the jar and admired Soul's attempt at cursive writing. It wasn't half-bad, though smeared in the corner.

Soul had figured he didn't have a chance anyway; that he was doomed to the couch tonight despite his minor injuries. Then, Maka would feel bad for his back and bring him back in. She would refuse to cuddle with him but when they woke up she would be in his arms.

Later, after they had tucked Aisha to bed, Maka and Soul returned to their bedroom together. There was something on Maka's mind.

"If you're worried about Aisha, she's fine. She's all the stronger for it! She really saved me! I could have been hurt." Soul felt no shame in admitting that she had helped in

"I know, Soul, I know, but you don't understand. When I saw her hair color for the first time, _I saw her die. _I see her die all the time. When you came back today…oh Soul, if you didn't come back…I don't know what I'd do."

"Maka…we're a cool family! I promise that we'll always come back." Soul tucked her face into his neck so she could get her tears out. He hoped that with these tears, she would be happy again. Oh, Aisha made her happy, there was no doubt about that, but there was always something that kept her from laughing when she was alone with him. "You know I always keep my promises."

…

The next day, while getting ready for the day's activities, Maka sat her daughter down at Maka's vanity—a piece of furniture she hardly used except to throw clothes on top of, but a hand-me-down from her mother. The little girl sat on a little stool, smiling at her reflection. She enjoyed sitting at her Mama's vanity; it was special.

Maka began to brush Aisha's hair slowly, gently, making sure there were no snarls in it. She had long hair, reaching to her back, so it was a long process. Aisha closed her eyes and smiled; the contact felt nice and the connection to her mother was restored.

"How would you like me to fix it today?"

"Can…can you leave it down today?" Usually, it was held back with a headband.

"Of course, sweetheart."

…

It became Aisha's new mission to learn everything she could about her grandpa. She knew that there would be something of him in the library at Shibusen, and since Mama always said that books could teach you anything, it was the best plan she could think of. Of course, she was a young girl, and didn't know much or read very well. But she could try!

Aunt Tsubaki was watching Aisha that day, because both her parents worked hard and their friends wanted to help out. Her dad said she had a _real _uncle too, who lived far away in California, but Black*Star and Kid were her uncles, and Tsubaki, Liz, and Patty were her aunts. They were a family together. And besides, maybe she'd have a cousin one day.

Fortunately, Aisha knew strategies for getting rid of each of her aunts and uncles. But first she decided she would pester Tsubaki for information and _then_ slip away to the library. She's been in Shibusen enough to remember where the library was.

Tsubaki was glad to take her to Shibusen, and especially when she mentioned she could visit her parents at lunch time and "that would make them _so_ happy!" Aisha piled on the cuteness for her Aunt, who couldn't resist her green eyes. Her so-called "cute face" worked best on Tsubaki. Her parents could usually figure out when she was really being cute and when she was obviously trying too hard to get what she wanted.

"Hey, Aisha-chan," Tsubaki said on their way there. She was using her honorifics—she had visited her homeland of Japan recently and always slipped back into that habit for a while. "Was your mama late for work? She didn't pick out a headband or anything."

"No, Aunt, I asked if she could leave it and she did."

A strange look crossed Tsubaki's face for only a moment. Aisha didn't think anything of it. Grownups thought silly things sometimes.

"Tsubaki, did you know my grandpa well?"

"Deathscythe-sama?" The weapon asked until Aisha nodded. "I didn't know him very well, but I will tell you what I know. Albarn-sama was a scythe weapon, just like you and your daddy. He was the previous Shinigami's favorite weapon! He kept him here, at Shibusen, just in case he needed him."

"Kid's father?"

They had reached the famous steps to Shibusen. Tsubaki was well-used to climbing these every day, but Aisha was not. Tsubaki also had the benefit of her long, muscular legs. There was going to be a few times where she would have to stop and wait for the younger weapon, but Aisha refused and was unable to be carried.

"Yes. Ah, I will always think of Kid's father as Shinigami-sama…" Tsubaki mused. "It is so weird having my friend as a god. An _actual _god, that is!" Black*Star was still on his quest to surpass the gods. Tsubaki still believed in him, though. She would always follow him faithfully. "Yes, Deathscythe. When he first came to Shibusen, his partner was Professor Stein, you remember him. I don't know what happened, but they split up and his new partner was Maka-neechan's mother. Oh! I'm sorry, I meant your mama!"

"It is okay, Aunt." In fact, when Maka had explained her accent to Aisha, she thought it was the coolest thing. Maka had also said that she loved when Tsubaki would call her _sister. _They were close like sisters, after all. Aisha took a deep breath before running up the steps to catch up for Tsubaki, who had stopped to wait for her.

"No, no! Tell me if it annoys you! I don't mind! I…uh…anyway...your grandmother made Deathscythe-sama a, well, deathscythe! Then they got married and had Maka. But then he did a terrible, terrible thing…"

Aisha was confused. Her esteemed grandpa, do something bad? Everyone made him out to be a hero! He was a deathscythe, too!

Tsubaki was waiting at the top of the steps patiently; she wasn't even leaning on one leg like Soul would, even if it was for her. Of course, her father would probably insist on trying to carry her anyway. Half-way, he'd give up, because she was too "squirmy". They entered the building together, and Tsubaki was thinking.

"Tell me, Aunt!"

"How to say…best way to put it… Deathscythe wasn't spending enough time at home with his family. So your grandmother decided to divorce him. That means that they weren't married anymore. She went away because she was sad. Your mama was angry that Deathscythe made her so sad, so she didn't talk to him for a long time."

Aisha knew this was a summarized version of the story of her grandpa, but it was valuable information and she was entranced by the knowledge she had gained. But was he really such a bad guy? Her parents mainly had good things to say, even though he didn't like her daddy that much. Well, Daddy didn't like a lot of other people, claiming that they were uncool.

Their shoes clacked against the tiles of the main hall as the two Weapons wandered. There weren't very many places for a young girl to go in a school she was too young to attend and a headquarters for an organization that was charged with keeping the world safe.

"But Deathscythe loved your mother very much, even though she wouldn't talk to him. He tried really, really hard, but he spent too much time with his friends."

"Mama still loved him, though?" This question popped out of her mouth quickly. She hoped with all her heart that she did love him.

"Of course! Aisha, don't worry about that! They had a complicated relationship on the _outside, _but on the _inside, _they loved each other so, so much. Just like you love _your _daddy. She would jump in and help him fight even if he told her to stay back, just like you." The little girl with the tomato-red hair sighed out of relief. What would it mean if the answer wasn't what she had hoped it was? How would she feel about that?

Tsubaki brought Aisha to the cafeteria to see if they could get anything from the vending machines for a snack.

"Aunt, look, Black*Star is running on the rooftop!" Aisha yelled, pointing out the window.

"WHAT?!" The chain-scythe rushed to the window. Before she could figure out that Aisha had lied to her and ran away, the little girl was already gone.

…

"I'm looking for books about, uh, Mr. Albarn!" Aisha asked the librarian, who was calmly reading books at his desk, so engrossed in his book that he didn't notice the girl. "Ahem! Excuse me! Hello? Helloooo?"

The librarian saw the movement of the jumping scythe in the corner of his eye so he put the book down in a flustered rush. "Oh! I'm sorry. What are you looking for?"

"I want books about Mr. Albarn, please."

"Of course,"

Aisha waited not-so-patiently until he returned with a few books and some newspapers. Because they were so heavy, he brought them to a table next to a giant reading chair that he knew Maka favored when she came here. He knew exactly who she was even though he had never met her; her eyes were a perfect match to Maka's, and he'd seen her many times.

"Here you are, miss. Recent books that mention Mr. Albarn."

Aisha tried to read them, she really did, but the words were too small on the page and too long and difficult for her to understand. The librarian had only brought them to her out of politeness; it was his job to help people find books, but not to read books. Her plan had failed!

"So you're researching your grandfather, huh?"

The redhead looked up to see an older man with glasses covering up green-gray eyes. The most interesting thing about him was the giant screw coming out of his head, which he was turning. It made a squeaking sound that made Aisha cringe and cover her ears.

"O-oh, hello Dr. Stein…" Aisha said shyly. The aura around Dr. Stein was scary.

"You know, Miss Evans, Spirit was my Weapon at one time. We were friends. As a researcher myself, I would highly suggest talking to primary sources before referring to books and magazines." The doctor said, sitting on the chair opposite her.

"R-right. Tsubaki said that you were his meister! She didn't say why you stopped being partners though. You see, I'm trying to learn all about him because Daddy said my hair looks just like his, and Mama said that he saved her."

"Yes…"

Stein lounged back in the chair before telling his story, "I first met Spirit at the Meister-Weapon Ball at the beginning of the school year. He was talking to some girls by the buffet table. Somehow I knew he was going to be a test subject for some of my greatest experiments. We made a great team despite our differences. Perhaps it was because of our differences that made us such a good team. I was able to stop him from becoming too much of a flirt and he was able to cheer me up when my experiments were failing.

"But he didn't know that I was experimenting on him, too. I planned to keep it that way but one of his girlfriends found out—"

"One of?!" She jumped up in her seat.

"Yes, one of. He had many during his time at school. But Kami was different. She was special. Spirit loved Kami. So when I was suspended for dissection, she was the first person he wanted for his meister. Now, I didn't believe in love then, but I think it was because of their love that she was able to make him a deathscythe. It brought them closer, and they decided to get married. Soon after, they had Maka.

"After that I went away for some research so we were out of touch for quite some time. When I returned, your mother was in school. I taught her how to use Soul Perception, an ability I heard you share…" He was genuinely interested in her abilities.

Aisha nodded.

"So it _does _run in families…I'll have to research that more…" He whispered to himself and returned, "After that, Spirit and I fought together once more. Spirit had his faults but he also had many strengths. Strengths that I did not understand at the time. He taught me about friendship, and forgiveness. I was sad when he died.

"You don't need to read any of those books. They won't tell you how he really was. You should talk to other people who knew him well. Risa and Arisa are gone now, so you should talk to Blaire. But you'll have to find someone else to take you there, or you'll become my next science experiment."

That did _not _sound pleasant one bit, and the mad doctor was cranking his screw once more. His urge to dissect was returning so he needed his brain to focus on the present again.

"But I can show you a picture of him that you might like. Come with me; I promise not to dissect you."

"Okay…" Aisha followed him out of the library. She still didn't like him, but Mama trusted him, so that must account for something. They went down a long hallway until they found one that was covered in pictures, more than Aisha could count. Each was the same size and their frames were the same; gold-rimmed and embellished with a skull that read the name of the person depicted.

"These," Dr. Stein explained, "Are all pictures of Deathscythes from the last fifty years. Spirit should be down at the end."

He still looked very young in this picture. He gestured "victory" with his fingers by making a V and smiled with bright teeth. And yes, it was true! His hair was exactly the same color as Aisha's, only it stretched to his shoulders and not his back. He looked so happy in this picture his granddaughter couldn't help but smile.

SPIRIT ALBARN (scythe)

"YAHOO! Oh! I didn't realize anyone else was here!" A ninja with spiky blue hair that would most certainly get him spotted ran over. Stein warned him that if he was still a student here he would have gotten detention for running in the halls, but Black*Star just scoffed that he was too godly to be sent to detention, a typical response.

"Well, I suppose you are in good hands." Dr. Stein said. "I must return to my research. Black*Star, if you would, take Aisha to see Blaire. She would know some things about Spirit."

"Maka's pervy father? Oh, well, I can't say no to a visit to a busty babe's house! Let's go!"

…

The tall, well-endowed, purple-haired woman opened the door to her pumpkin house. Her sultry look meant that she was expecting someone very different than a little girl and Black*Star. She was just as pleased to see the girl though.

"Aisha! Oh, I am sooo happy to see my little kitten~!" The cat-woman was surprisingly strong, and lifted Aisha up to hug her. Blaire adored children but they usually didn't get along well with her. If she transformed into her cat form, they would pull her tail and tease her with toys.

"Aunt Blaire!"

As soon as she said this Blaire set her down and wagged her finger like she was teaching a lesson. "Uh-uh. Blaire is not 'Aunt'. That makes her sound old and wrinkly! Blaire is Blaire."

"Don't I get a hug too?" Black*Star opened his arms, waiting for a breast-filled hug from the not-witch.

"No. You stay outside while I talk with my kitten. Kitten, would you like some milk? Blaire has plenty!" The two females entered the little cottage to see a warm kitchen and living room in one room. Half of Blaire's house was the great room and the other half was her bedroom and large bathroom. Everything was girly to the max, and most things looked either like a pumpkin or a cat.

The red-head took a seat at the table and Blaire brought them both mugs of milk. She also brought a plate of cookies, which she was embarrassed about. "I made these cookies earlier…I hope they are good…tell me if they're bad, okay?"

They were terrible. The cookie tasted like chalk and had the texture of it too. Politely, Aisha choked, "They're okay! I just like Mama's better, really!"

The lie fooled the cat, her ears popping out to twitch happily.

"So, Blaire, I was wondering if you knew anything about my grandpa? I've been asking everyone what they remember."

"Why, kitten?"

"Daddy said I have his hair color."

"Yes, you do! I'm sure it's going to be _very _pretty when you grow up! All the boys are going to love love love it!" Aisha wasn't sure why Blaire was always obsessed about what men thought of everything. Understanding when she was older was not a valid excuse in her opinion, but since everyone used it, she had to let it suffice. "I knew Spirit. He was a sexy, sexy man!"

"Blaire!" She blushed and clutched her cup of milk. They did _not _use the word 'sexy' in their household. It wasn't exactly a bad word but it was one of those words that Mama didn't like. Daddy could say it, but only to Mama, and only when no one was listening or Aisha wasn't probably listening.

It was one of Blaire's favorite words, though. Things were sexy or not sexy, just like things were cool or not cool. Blaire confused the little girl a lot. "What? He was! He had cool red hair and pretty blue eyes that charmed _all _the ladies! And he was a deathscythe, which made him even cooler. In fact, there was a rumor," Blaire whispered conspiratorially, "he had kissed all the girls in the city over twenty-five. He did have some standards."

Aisha's opinion of him being a hero was failing. Someone who was like that should not be regarded well. "Did you kiss him, Blaire?" She asked, secretly sad.

"Nope, I didn't! He wanted to kiss me so, so bad, but I wouldn't let him! If I kissed him, Maka-kitten would be sad." The cat got a dreamy look on her face. "Kitten loved him so much, but then Deathscythe would see a pretty lady and run off to her instead. That's why she didn't like him.

"But I _did _kiss your Daddy! Nyahaha, but he didn't want me to!" She laughed.

"Not Daddy!" Suddenly she felt as protective as she had felt when the pre-kishin attacked them the other day. "Only Mama kisses Daddy! I can kiss him sometimes, too." She would give them both good-night kisses every night before she went to bed. They had learned quickly that's what it was and thought it was adorable.

"Silly kitten, I kissed him _because _of your Mama! I thought if I made her jealous she would realize her feelings for your Daddy! And it was loads of fun too! Hehe, kitten, you'll understand when you're older."

She puffed out her cheeks and frowned. She then huffed, decided it wasn't worth her time, and drank her milk instead of throttling her like her Mama would do.

"But no matter what anyone tells you, never think that your grandpa was a bad guy! Thanks for stopping by, kitten~!"

…

She had gained information but it only made her more confused. Everyone had different things to say about her grandfather, and some of them made her feel conflicted.

Daddy said that he was a great deathscythe who taught him what he knew, and although they didn't really like each other, he respected him a lot.

Mama loved him very much, so much that when she finally talked about him, she cried. He died a hero, protecting her. But Mama also didn't like him when he didn't spend time with her and _her _Mama, from what she had learned from Tsubaki's summary.

Dr. Stein was his friend of sorts. He had taught his ex-partner about friendship and happiness, and he had loved Aisha's grandmother very much. But he also had many girlfriends.

Blaire's statement confused her most of all. If Spirit was a hero whose friends and family loved him, why did Blaire describe him how she did? A man who was rumored to kiss most of the women in Death City? (Which _wasn't _true, she reminded herself, because Blaire didn't kiss him.)

"Aisha, you're not eating. Is something wrong?" Maka said from across the dinner table. "I thought you liked pasta. What's wrong, angel?"

"Well…I was asking everybody what they thought about Grandpa, and they all said different things." She summed up her research for her parents, and although they were proud that she had gone around and learned all that, she had ran away from Tsubaki and could have been dissected by Stein. They trusted him in most things, but there was always a chance he could snap… "So, Mama, is it true that you loved him but didn't like him? How is that possible? I don't understand."

Showing off her self-control, Maka put her fork down on the side of the plate and smoothed the napkin on her lap. She wasn't going to cry this time. "There were many things that Papa did that I didn't like, but he was still my papa so I still loved him. He still tried. Sometimes I would think it was working but then he would disappoint me again. But Aisha, all that matters is what _you _think of him."

"What I think of him?"

"Yes."

…

The rest of the family's dinner had conversation dealing with what had happened at work that day; Maka had given her students a test that she had to grade tonight and Soul had dealt with Shinigami Kid all day. There was a big meeting with the other deathscythes of the world. Kid was trying to make it so that there would be eight regions, each supervised by a deathscythe, but where would the other regions be? Antarctica?

"I want to be a good friend but I want to remind him not everything has to be in eights." He said. "Ugh, I hate that word already. _Eight. _He was actually considering putting a base in Antarctica! Who would actually want to go there?"

"There's no Kishin down there anyway." Maka agreed. "I don't even think witches like going there. The north pole, sure, but…oh, wait, was there a penguin-themed witch? Well she can't live there all the time. That's no reason to have a Shibusen base there."

The two adults continued to talk about things that didn't really concern Aisha. These topics, to her, blended together so that it sounded like her parents were complaining about the same things every day. Then, they'd—here it goes again—argue over whose job was worse, until one or the other would complement the other's cooking and the argument would be over. This time.

Their antics were almost amusing to Aisha, unless she wanted to get a word in. Today they just gave her a little time to think about what her mother had said; to think of her grandfather how she wanted to.

There was a lesson her mama had taught her…what was it…there were no good people or bad people; all humans had some amount of madness in them, some more than others. It was part of being human, she said. When they give in to that madness, though, was when they lost their humanity and became pre-kishin. Her grandfather was human. That meant a lot. He made mistakes in his life, but he loved his family, and that was all that mattered.

Happy with her decision, Aisha finished her dinner, and Soul gathered the plates to put them in the dishwasher. Maka brought out a pile of papers from her bag, tests to grade. She was always grading some sort of test or homework. If it was a super important test she would go into her office or stay longer at Shibusen, but a quiz like tonight's she preferred to sit at the desk in the living room and listen to the background noise of her husband and daughter playing video games, glaring at him sometimes until he remembered to let Aisha win most of the rounds.

"So, what do you promise not to do tomorrow?" She made sure to ask after they'd turned off the game.

"Not to run away from Tsubaki." She crossed her fingers behind her back, protecting herself from future consequences made by lying when making a promise. It wouldn't be the last time she would run off from any of her honorary family, but she never went too far off or got into too much trouble. In fact, she had run away from her godfather Black*Star so much that her parents never let him take care of her again, definitely a plus. All he did was talk about himself and call her his 'future follower', whatever that could mean.

Running away from Aunt Tsubaki was just too easy.

"That's right. Bed time."

…

The two adults did not speak to each other after their daughter went to bed. The only noises were the button mashing of Soul on his controller—he had changed the game to a fighting one and not a kid-friendly racing one—and flipping of pages from Maka's desk. Her near-constant pencil scratching meant that it was a really hard quiz and no one did very well. Maka's face was probably frowning by now. She really wanted her students to succeed, but she didn't want to write her tests too easily!

_Maybe an A+ student shouldn't have become a teacher?_ She often mused. _Do I expect too much from my students? Do I expect them to be just like me? I don't want anyone to be just like me…_

Her forehead made contact with the desk, remembering how distracted she'd been all day at class. She was still worked up about Aisha being in trouble the night before, wanting to hold her close and never let go so she'd never be in danger again. Her maternal instinct was kicking in, and she almost wished she could forget about it for just these few hours of class. After, she'd be just fine with feeling like a mama bear and growling at anyone who got close of Aisha.

Maka caught herself looking at the framed photo of their little family. In the picture Aisha was seated on Soul's shoulders, clutching his head with a stupid grin on her face. Soul smiled a true smile; there were no hints of a smirk or showing off his sharp teeth. Maka wrapped an arm around Soul's waist and smiled the largest. She remembered being worried Aisha would fall off when Liz took that picture. Soul wasn't worried at all but was peeved when his precious hairstyle was messed up.

"Why do you think I tie my hair in a ponytail now? Kids like to grab hair, Soul!"

Kids also got their own hair in snarls and tangles if left free. Or, that's what she said to herself as she put her daughter's red hair up in a matching ponytail or held it all back with a headband. The headbands also reminded her of the days where Soul would wear such accessories.

They might have the headbands and the Weapon gene in common, but Soul was never so curious as to purposely question people and attempt research. No, that was something Aisha must have inherited from Maka.

Grandfather, Aisha said.

Spirit, from Soul.

Sempai, Stein said.

Deathscythe, most said.

_Papa! _

"My baby angel," she murmured, face frustrated. Thoughts were tumbling around in her head and she couldn't concentrate on grading papers. "Why'd you have to be just like me?"

"Hey, I think we should go to bed too." Maka's thoughts were interrupted by Soul and the sudden turn off of the television. He must have lost. "Finish'm tomorrow. You're thinking too hard to get anything done."

"You're right," Maka straightened her papers and clipped them together marking her place as an afterthought.

They entered their bedroom together. What used to be Soul's cave-like room became a cozy space with Maka's feminine and bookworm touches. She only agreed to move into Soul's room when they started dating if she could bring her books with her. They had to compromise due to space: _one _bookcase was allowed.

Maka's cheery bedroom only needed a few changes to look like a baby girl's room, once the books were taken out, something Soul snickered at every day when they were preparing for Aisha's arrival.

"Soul…I need to tell you something." Maka looked up into his eyes, which were taking on that look that she _absolutely hated, _that worried look in his expressive eyes, was now focused towards her. A long time ago, she would have hidden from his worry by looking down at her hands as she would reveal what was bothering her, but now, more mature, she could face him. After all, if she had the courage to defeat the Kishin Asura on the moon, she could do a silly thing like look at her husband. "It's very important."

"What is it? Is this about the other night? I told you I'm _sorry _Aisha got in danger, I did my best!" Soul said, "Well, that wasn't my _best, _you're right…Maka?"

"No, it's not, well, it sort of is, ugh, this is so hard to say! Marie was right, I should have told you earlier, not later…" Marie had become something of a mother figure for Maka in the continued absence of Kami. A new mother herself, she helped Maka throughout her pregnancy and was the woman Maka needed to go to when she had questions or problems. Books might give her all the facts she wanted but there was nothing like a mother's loving reassurance that _everything was going to be alright. _

"Maka, tell me. You know you can tell me anything. You _know." _

"I do know, Soul! That's why it's so hard!" She took a deep breath as if steadying herself. This must be really big news…was she pregnant again? Soul hoped she was; he wanted another child, maybe a boy. "You are going to hate me so much! You're not going to want to be married to me anymore! I wouldn't blame you, either—"

Her mouth trembled as if she were about to cry. Soul leapt up from his seat on the bed to hug her into silence.

"We promised to be the best, coolest parents ever, remember? We would always be there for our little girl, love her no matter what, all that. I would always be here to protect all of you, I'd never give up and leave, and you wouldn't either! You were going to be the best mother ever and I was going to be the best father and the best husband ever!"

_Maka stared at her stomach, suddenly afraid and confused. Was there really something, some little some_one, _growing in there? Her stomach was currently flat, abs tight with constant training and mission-going. There was no way it could grow big, big like Marie's swollen belly, which was huge!_

_Soul was different. He had taken the news well, too well in Maka's opinion. "That's great!" Was not what she expected out of a young father or Soul in general. He loved Maka very much; he'd made that very clear. He was the first to say "I love you!" and whispered it sometimes when they were alone. His affection scared her. She'd fallen in love with the gruff Soul who protected her always. Wanting kisses was what she wanted, right? Who was she to deny him?_

"_Is it too much?" He figured out what was bothering her right away. His lame reasoning was that, "I've held it in for so long, it feels good to tell you," _

_Maka made a list, telling him what he could and couldn't do, and when certain things were appropriate. After he'd signed the bottom with a smirk she knew that her rules would most certainly be broken. His public displays of affection towards her became proper, though, and that was good enough. _

_They were out in the middle of nowhere when it happened. They'd beaten the monster of the day and returned to the empty cabin they were given late. Soul groaned that he was hungry, to save him from dying of hunger, and she laughed and cooked them dehydrated meals that cooked in a little bag with boiling water she made with the camping stove. Hunger and exhaustion were the finest sauces though, so the food was gone in less time than it had taken to boil the water. _

_It was supposed to be a bedtime kiss; a brush of the lips. And it was, until their eyes met and had a conversation between them._

_Soul._

_Maka._

_I love you._

_I know. I love you._

_There was a second kiss, then a third, and a fourth, their bodies growing closer and closer together. Soul trailed his fingers up her arms to her shoulders and back down to her hips. He let her know that he approved of the way Maka clung on to his neck and he slowly walked her to the bed. _

_They didn't think at all about bringing protection with them. It wouldn't have mattered; it hadn't even crossed either of their minds at the time. Maka felt so _stupid _later, that she was supposed to be the smart one! And now!_

"_I'm so happy!"_

"_You…are?"_

"_Yes," He said, as if that were a stupid question. Maka wasn't quite sure of his reasoning then, but it was very clear on his thoughts on the situation. He knelt in front of Maka and kissed her belly button. It made Maka embarrassed, and she would have swatted him away, but he was so enthusiastic about this whole thing, so she couldn't say no. _

"_Well, that's good, because we're keeping her!" She felt strongly of the gender, even now when it was so early. Maka couldn't even sense the baby's wavelength yet and she had the strongest Soul Perception ever. She never doubted her choice; this baby was something she created with Soul, and so it was something to be treasured._

"_Don't you mean him?"_

"_All babies start out female, Soul. Then, if they have the Y chromosome, they start to grow into a male. We learned that in Biology, remember? Stein was excited about his baby so he was telling us stuff about babies."_

"_I was asleep. What do you want for dinner?" Soul said, remembering that they still needed to eat. Maka was startled by this question; Soul had been so focused on kissing her stomach that she thought he had forgotten this world existed. _

"_Um, pasta with marinara. Will you make it?"_

_Of course he would. He would never say no to the mother of his child. His. _

…

_The baby girl, Aisha, they named her, was brought to Maka after she was born. "She has quite a head of hair on her! It's strange for a baby to have so much! Sometimes they have a little, but she sure is something special!" The nurse said, settling the little bundle of fabric containing the baby in the crook of Maka's arm. After she made sure Maka was holding the baby correctly, she said kindly, "I will bring the father in after a few minutes."_

_Aisha cooed at her mother and squirmed in her blankets like she wanted to get out. They were wrapped too tight for her to get anywhere, a pastel pink that marked her as female._

"_You are mine. You will always be my daughter and I will love you and be there for you forever." Maka promised to the gurgling child, but mostly to herself. She vowed that she would never leave her child behind like her mother did to her. She would protect her with her life, and be the best mother ever. _

_She supposed the other new mothers in the hospital rooms next to hers when they were first handed their baby, they probably would first say how cute they were and how they "_look just like their mommy!" _Things like that. But here she was, making promises to the girl, being serious, and hugging her close to her chest. _

"_Soul Perception," Maka decided to read her soul. There wasn't much to see, as she didn't have much of a personality yet and wasn't very powerful, but her wavelength felt exciting. She was full of potential. The sensation of blades reminded her of Soul, possibly hinting that she was a scythe too. Soul would like that._

_Three sharp knocks signaled his approach. Soul was dying of anticipation to see his daughter, and congratulate his girlfriend. He ran right over, knocking over the polite nurse, who would have let out some curses if they weren't in the hospital._

"_Soul," Maka warned, "I would chop you right now if I had a book for being so rude! I wanted some more alone time with Aisha!" His kiss seemed to soothe her opinion on him. It was soft, planted on her forehead, and lingering. Then there was another on her lips. "Maybe I shouldn't let you hold her."_

_Soul watched as she turned towards their baby as if he weren't there and smiled down at her like nothing else mattered. And nothing else _did _matter; she was with her family, and her friends would be arriving soon to say hello. She was so happy, so accomplished! Later the new father managed to pry her away from Maka for a few minutes to hold in his arms. He rocked her a bit and she liked the movement, making noises at him to let him know. "She knows I'm her papa! Maka, she's going to be just as smart as you!" _

"_You're not 'papa',"_

"_What?!" He hadn't even considered that the baby wasn't his! Could it possibly be that-? He stopped rocking Aisha in horror, but still cradled her against his stomach as if she were a favorite object that was going to be taken away from him._

"_You're 'daddy'. Or 'dad'. And I'm her mama." The scythe let out a breath he had been holding and returned to swaying. _

_These names were significant to Maka, and she knew what each meant, but not why it was so important that they use them. Soul could never be a 'papa', because Papa was papa, and Soul used to say that he was not like her papa at all and that he was faithful and he was. Perhaps, Maka felt in that deep dark place in her brain that made no sense, a "papa" was always an unfaithful, flirtatious bastard who loved too much. A dad would be much better. And how could she possibly bring herself to say that word when what had just happened to Papa? The word was like tears in her mouth. _

_Maka wanted to be Aisha's Mama, because as in all things, she wanted to be as good or better than Kami, her mama, who had run away after her divorce. Maka would be the mama she didn't have._

"_You hear that, Aisha? I'm your daddy. And I will bring you back to mama." Soul settled the bundle back with her mother. A strand of hair had fallen out of the tightly wrapped blanket and onto Aisha's forehead. In shock, Maka pushed back the folds of fabric acting as a hood and revealed a mass of bright-red hair. "Maka, look, it looks just like his—_

…

"Soul, I'm a terrible mother." Maka tried to admit, but Soul wouldn't take it. Just like when she had tried to say she wasn't good enough for him so many times, he wouldn't let her think she wasn't good enough for Aisha. He released her, standing just in front of her and clutching her shoulders so she couldn't run away from this.

"No, you're not! You're a wonderful mother! Don't ever say that!" He ordered.

"How can you have so much faith in me when you haven't even heard what I've thought about?"

"I always have faith in you. You are my meister, and my wife." It was a stupid question. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Soul, you remember when Aisha was born she had the start of her red hair…Papa's hair…I was so shocked. I'd hoped she would look just like you! I didn't even think his hair color was even a possibility for her. I didn't like it. I _hated _it. Soul, I _still _hate it. How can I possibly hate something so beautiful?

"Right there, when we saw it for the first time, I wanted to take your scythe arm and cut it all off before it grew any longer. I _still do! _It's the reason I cover it up all the time; brushing it is hard but if it's out long it waves like a flag, and I think that it's mocking me. It's reminding me of what I shouldn't have done that day, what shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have screamed. Papa should still be here. He would love her so much.

"The doctors said that it was probably some sort of post-partum depression, because Papa's death was such a shock to me." She noticed his confusion, "Uh, Soul, some women get depressed after they have a child. They call that _post-partum. _It should have gone away in a few months, but it didn't for me. I still feel it."

"Maka," was all he said, but the love in his red eyes asked a question they had both asked each other many times before: "Why didn't you tell me?" Not to mention how so many things made sense now. Little things she had said, her obsessed manner with how Aisha's hair was not going to be shoulder length, fixing up her hair every day. She liked to buy her frilly headbands and hats, which in hindsight were probably to hide the hair. Soul thought that maybe her headbands were to show off the hair, or because of the headbands he used to wear.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to worry you."

Of course she didn't. That was her answer for everything. But he had no right to say anything about it; then he'd be a bigger hypocrite than he already was. Those nightmares of the little demon that he used to have he could have told her about and she would have calmed him down and reminded him where he was and that she was still alive. It would have helped him to tell her about them; it would get it off his chest—literally.

No, instead he decided not to tell her so that she wouldn't feel guilty and worry about him. Now Maka was the one having nightmares.

"Maka…"

He got in the bed and opened the covers for Maka. His face was dead serious, knowing that this was a big problem and he had to be careful with how he handled it. Every word that he would say from here on out needed to be perfect.

She almost refused to go into the bed. When she did she went right next to her husband, her hands tracing the scar that ran from shoulder to hip. He flinched, but Maka had learned long ago it wasn't because it hurt now; it just tickled when she touched it. Her forehead rested against his chest.

"Maka. Please understand this. I love you. Aisha loves you. No matter what, we are a family."

"I know, and I love her so much, she's my daughter…I just can't believe I could not like her hair; everyone says it looks so beautiful on her."

"That's right; it's _her _hair, not anyone else's."

"…yeah," she agreed after deep contemplation. Soul could feel her smile on his chest and he knew that all was going to be well, until they were interrupted.

The door to their bedroom cracked open to reveal a scared-looking Aisha, wearing her favorite pajamas, silky and Asian-style, a gift from Tsubaki. "Daddyyyy, Mamaaaa, I had a nightmare, can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Aw, angel, of course you can, tell us about it." Maka scooted away from Soul to leave a space for her daughter to climb in between them. Aisha instantly felt much warmer and safer in the bed with her parents.

Once she settled in, she said, "It was Dr. Stein. He was going to operate on my feet!"

"Don't worry, angel, Dr. Stein knows better than to operate on children."

"And he knows not to mess with my family!" Maka added.

Soon the girl was snoozing, chest rising up and down with every steady breath. Her father snored behind her. Maka took no offense when she rolled to face him instead of her. Who did she herself turn to when she was upset? The person she was closest to, of course!

She didn't want to wake her, but she ran her fingers through the red hair, _her _hair, and brought it to her lips.


End file.
